Mainstream
by C.M. Kearney
Summary: Two-shotter. Dr.C/Susan. It's all in communication. How Dr. C won Susan's approval in experimenting on her.


Disclaimer: Me no own nothin'.

A/N: This is my first attempt at actually writing something after a period of blank paper. I need to write this now while I'm still on sugar, so let's make it quickie! ^o^

"Mainstream"

It was a rather awkward beginning at first. His courtesy to initiate first contact with the female newcomer had been rewarded by a giant metal spoon, and he was able to conclude grudgingly that like all women, their new 'cellmate' would scream shrilly at the sight of cockroaches, and try to kill them. Fortunately, his everpresent curiosity won him some pricey titbits of information about her.

Her name was Susan Murphy, a young woman in her early twenties who was raised in Modesto, California. She was to be wedded to a weatherman named Derek Dietl on the same day that she was hit by some unidentifiable space rock charged with an alien substance, which she absorbed into her body. It reconfigured her genetic makeup and gave her the strength of Hercules, and the size of a forty-nine foot giantess. And in the middle of their wedding vows too, God forbid. One of the soldiers had actually tried to make off with the white garter afterwards, and ended up getting a severe keelhauling from General Monger himself, effectively putting off any idea that would further harass the poor thing. Well, he didn't remember earning the same treatment around the time he was caught; the antennae-pulling, the case-testing, the prodding and the questioning and the humiliation left plenty to recall for. Perhaps it was because she was less fearsome to look at...

While young Susan seemed unassertive and easily mollified by anything that promised her safety and happiness(two things he noted made any woman happy), she wasn't quite as harmless as she was first perceived to be by them all. First day in the facility and she smacked a helicopter out of the air like a giant mosquito. Luckily, the pilot didn't die. On the same day, she almost stepped on a worker even when he'd yelled, put a hole through one of the water tanks after she slipped and her elbow knocked against it, broke several lights forgetting to duck on low ceiling areas, etc..

And finally, when dinner had rolled around 'the common room', she accidentally drove her fork into B.O.B. when he tried to say hello and invite her to their table. Thoughtlessly moving to stand right on top of her dinner. What made her avoidable for a week was when she shrieked and literally jumped up from her chair seeing what she did to the poor blue blob, sending the table flying in a graceful arc at a spectacular eighty-two feet, before landing deadsmack on top of the smaller table with a thunderous crash, its previous occupants having barely escaped becoming flattened.

By a miracle, there were no casualties throughout the first day, and surprisingly, the next day. The next day concerned Susan Murphy, now dubbed Ginormica by the government, trying to lock herself up in her so-called room, and begging the general not to let her out of there ever again. When that request was turned down, Susan spent six miserable days sitting in a corner of the common room away from him and the other monsters, eating quietly without disturbance before slinking off into her corner without as much as a glance or a word to any of her companions. Sometimes, when she thought no one was paying attention(including him), she'd duck her head and cry into her arms with her knees up. Susan always appeared to be either asleep or in deep thought like that, but only a person who would have no idea what she was going through or how she felt would think so. He didn't think so. They were kindred spirits afterall; they were both normal humans once, then by a host of unnatural occurrences were they turned into beings that frightened all of their loved ones and took them away. Oh. He probably had some close friends and a family that time, but he really couldn't say: that experiment took more from him than his overall appearance...

So looking up from his botched attempt to insert an old fiber optic cable into a broken transistor radio, he noticed Susan Murphy in the same corner and the same position as before: head hung and eyes turned down, motionless aside from the slow rise and fall of her shoulders while breathing. And that same concerned look crossed his face seeing her. How many times had he glanced up all week since her arrival? He'd lost count after Day Four. And all that time, he never made any attempt to approach her as much as the other three did.

B.O.B. was the last monster anyone expected to be fazed by a deathtrap, so what would stop him talking to the person that ran him through with a fork? He opened his mouth and sang some kind of river song to her on the second day, telling the others that 'music always tamed the savage beast.' Well put, in a way, but poorly executed. Especially when he forgot how to breathe during the song, and incidentally forgot what it was he was doing before he got seizures, and wandered off. Link was the next up to bat. A pity that his aggressive and excitable nature prompted him to challenge her to an all-out brawl rather than simply make friendly talk. Susan protested and refused, obviously. To bring that story to a short conclusion, Link twisted an arm warming up and spent the next two days with a sling and a grumpy face. Insectosaurus................well, there was nothing very productive to say on his behalf, simply put.

He must have been the only one not to have come over and attempt to engage her in a conversation. Not since that day. No amount of plutonium in the world would make him brave the odds of coming up to her if it meant being stomped on with her sneakers. Still...he really would want to try and talk to the young woman. He didn't like being on bad terms with anyone. He was that amicable. And they just got off on a bad start, that was all. He could understand if he kept his distance...but, how far away could she handle him anyway?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, inspiration struck him. And resumed his work on the cable and the radio.


End file.
